Lost
by Aiko-Chan SoT
Summary: Where was he? He couldn't remember why he was here, but that it was important. He just kept thinking he had to run, had to help someone.' R&R Currently oneshot. Will maybe be made into a story. PLEASE review!


_**This is my first ever Harry Potter story. I'm thinking about making this into a real long one. But for now, it's only a oneshot. It was thrown together real quick, so it might not be very good. But read, and tell me what you think!**_

::**Lost**::

The halls seemed to close in on him. His breathing was shallow, becoming even worse. Everything seemed to be spinning where he stood. He couldn't move. His heart was like a bass drum, pounding hard against his ribs, making every breath hurt.

Where was he? He couldn't remember why he was here, but that it was important. He just kept thinking he had to run, had to help someone.

And then, he heard the scream.

The scream that would forever haunt him, forever ring in his ears. His green eyes flickered franticly, his mind racing. _Got to go. Go to help. Where is she? _He turned, racing down the hallway, his heart thudding and banging against his ribs like a bird in a cage. _Run. Run to her. Help her._

But whom was he helping? All he could remember was having to keep running to the door on the other end of the hallway. Just run, his feet flying beneath him, his dark hair messing up even more than usual. Something was happening. Something bad. And he didn't even know what it was. He was needed, he knew, but he didn't know why.

With every step he took it seemed the door got two more steps away, like he would never get to it. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, blocking his path. But it didn't matter. He kept running, right through them, his green eyes dialated with fear, his breath coming in short pants. The concrete walls on either side of him seemed to begin to close in.

Finally, he reached out and grabbed the doorknob, his whole body shaking as he desperatly tried to jerk it open. He pulled and jerk, pushed and slammed, but to no avail. His eyes darted around, looking from something to use. Remembering his wand, he reached into his pocket and whipped it out, sweat causing him to nearly drop it. He aimed it at the door, eyes screwed shut.

"_Alohamora!_" he screamed, and a blast of blue appeared from his wand, striking the door with such tremendous power that it shattered, wood flying everywhere, splitering him. But he could care less. All he knew was he was needed on the other side of that door. He jumped through the dust of ashen wood, landing on his feet on the other side. Then, a headsplitting scream rocked the entire building in which he was in.

And he came to learn that it was his scream.

Now he knew. Now he knew why he was needed. He knew now why he felt need to run into the door. Why he was hypervenalating in the middle of the hallway. Now he knew.

But it was too late...

For there, on the floor, covered with her own blood, layed the one thing he was supposed to help, the one thing that asked for his help, and he couldn't give it. A loud sob escaped from his throat, and his wand clattered to the floor, rolling several feet away from him. And he followed it as he crashed to the floor.

"Hermione!" he cried, crawling to the body of his best friend. But he stopped, grasping his wand, tears rolling down his cut and briused face. He held the wand, pointing it toward the broken body of his friend.

"_Ridikkculus!_" he shouted, and a ring of silver light floated from his wand to Hermione's body, and disappeared before touching her.

"No..." he whispered, then pulled his wand back up. "Please..._Ridikkculus!_" Again, the silver light flooded from his wand to her body, and disppeared.

"Hermione," he choked, dropping his wand again, rolling once again away from him. "No..." He crawled toward her, cradleing her broken body in his arms. Her chest was spilt, blood still dripping from the wound. Her eyes were still open, her face frozen in a stare of pure horror, frozen in her last scream, last breath of life. Her blood stained his clothing, but once again, it didn't matter. He rocked back and forth, sobbing, whispering her name, pleading it not to be true, that it was only a dream.

"Hermione," he choked, burying his head into her shoulder. "Hermione...Why?" For so long he sat there, simply rocking back and forth for hours upon hours. The tears never stopped, only came harder with every passing moment.

Then, hours later, just as he had dozed off into her shoulder, still crying, he heard shouts and voices, which bolted him awake.

"Harry!" they cried, voice concerned and fearful. "Hermione! Harry!" He sobbed again, hugging tighter to the unmoving body of Hermione, his messy black hair mixing with her brown locks.

"They have to be here somewhere," came the concerned, nearly panicking voice of a male. Still clutching Hermione's body, he refused to move, not caring that his best friends and caretakers were there.

Then, when it seemed like he would simply die with her, the door creaked open, and a head poked through the door. Light poured into the room, and when the person spotted him sitting in the middle of the room, the door opened more, and light poured across the limp figure of Hermione and the nearly limp figure of Harry Potter.

Silence. Harry didn't look up. He didn't want to look at whoever was looking at him. He just wanted to remain holding Hermione, just to die. He had lost her. He had failed her. And it hurt to breath.

A shadow stepped into the doorway, blocking the light from Hermiones face. There was no sound, only footsteps as the person approached. Still, Harry did nothing. Then, the footsteps stopped abrutly, and there was a moan from the person in the room.

"Harry?" he muttered, and for the first time Harry looked up to look into the shocked, pain engulfed eyes of his best friend, Ron Weasley. "Oh my God...No..." He dropped to the ground, his wand skidding away from him. "Hermione!" he shouted, tears forming in his eyes. "No!"

There was several more footsteps, and a gasp of horror from many people as shadows rushed into the room. Harry reconized the plump figure of Mrs. Weasley, the tall figure of Mr. Weasley, and the tall and pale figure of Remus Lupin. By now, Ron was sobbing as well, and Harry refused to let go of Hermione's body. He felt lightheaded and weak. But clung to dear life to Hermione.

"Harry..." came the soft voice of Lupin as he grabbed Harry's shoulder. Harry didn't respond. "Harry..." Harry opened his eyes again and looked into the frozen face of Hermione, and felt his dizziness turn to darkness as it engulfed his vision before he heard a sob from his own mouth. He was just concsious to feel strong hands grab him before he fell to the ground, and pick him up.

"Hermione..." he whispered.

::**End of Chapter**::

_**Sooo...good, bad, what? **_

_**I need a vote too!**_

_**Keep as oneshot**_

_**OR**_

_**Make into real fanfic**_

_**Vote and tell me what you think!**_

_**SoL**_


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